Missing
by Misato
Summary: During the year she's missing Jackie never stops looking for Rose. One night she gets some unexpected help. Jackie Tyler, Captain Jack Harkness.


(A/N: This story is set a few months before "Aliens of London." As always, all my thanks to Awesome Beta **raggyanne** for the edit.)

Jackie swore as her stack of flyers dropped all over the sidewalk. She tried to gather them back up, but the wind started to blow them down the street like oversized confetti faster than she could grab. The early morning's downpour had finally ended but a cold drizzle still hung in the air, and Jackie couldn't help but notice how many of the flyers seemed to have gone out of their way to land in puddles. A hundred black and white Roses looked up at her from the pavement; as she knelt down to try to salvage what she could she saw the rainwater start to distort the pictures and for the thousandth time tried not to imagine what was happening to Rose at that moment.

"Looks like you could use a hand," she heard a voice say and looked up into a pair of the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. "I...thank you," she stammered as the man crouched down beside her, all boyish and square-jawed, and she self-consciously smoothed back her hair. _It would figure you'd run into a handsome one when you look such a fright._

"Don't even mention it. I never could resist a damsel in distress," he said, handing her the flyers he'd collected and flashing a brilliant grin that showed his dimples.

Jackie smiled back; he was a welcome distraction. And besides, she'd always had a weakness for men with dimples. "Well, thank you again, all the same. Do you know so far ten people must've walked by like I wasn't even there?" Two of them had been women from the Estate; see if she'd ever babysit any of their little monsters ever again. She took the top flyer off of the stack and handed it to the man. "Here, take one. I'd give one to every person in London if I could."

He grinned again and thanked her, but when he finally glanced at the flyer the smile froze. He swallowed hard once. "Pretty girl."

Jackie latched on to his change in expression. "She's my daughter. She's been missing for over eight months now, have you seen her?"

He glanced at her, his eyes flicking away from hers too rapidly, then shook his head. "No. No, I'm sorry. I wish I had."

"Even if you just thought you might have..."

"I work out of Cardiff, this is the first time I've been in London in a few years." He let out a long, shaky breath, like he was trying to force a laugh but couldn't quite manage it. "I guess time got away from me."

Jackie's eyes narrowed; this was the closest she'd come to hope in months, and she wasn't ready to let go. "Are you _sure_? When you saw her picture, it seemed like you..."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I know how it must look, but no, I haven't seen her. The picture just... just reminded me of someone I used to know, a long time ago. I guess it caught me off guard."

Jackie wondered if she was ever going to get used to disappointment. "Keep it," she said when he tried to hand the flyer back. "Maybe you'll remember something later."

He carefully folded the flyer and slipped it into his pocket. "You know, I haven't even introduced myself. Captain Jack Harkness."

"Jackie Tyler," she answered, shaking his hand, and when he flashed another infectious smile she couldn't help but return it. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn he was flirting. "So you're a military man, then?"

"Used to be," he said. "Given it up for now, though. You said your daughter had been missing for eight months? And you're still putting up flyers?"

"Every two weeks," Jackie said, and she saw his eyebrows rise.

"All by yourself?"

"There used to be a lot of help at the beginning, but as time went on people just seemed to find more important things to do. Now most of the time it's just me. Every two weeks I come out, replace ones that have been torn down, try to cover as much of the city as I can. Over seven million people in this city, _one_ of them has to know something. Somewhere out there there's someone who saw Rose that night, even if they might not remember it. The more of these I put up, the greater the chance that one person will see it and can tell me why my daughter isn't home."

Jack had taken the flyer back out of his pocket. "All these months, and you still think that one person's out there?"

"I'm sure of it."

He cocked his head to one side. "How many of those do you still have to put up tonight?"

Jackie leafed through her stack. "A little over a hundred."

"You want some help?"

A couple hours later they were almost finished; Jack was thoroughly charming and didn't complain when Jackie kept making him stretch to reach some high vantage point. It was easily (and sadly) the best date she'd been on in months.

In fact, he was actually a little _too_ perfect. "Jack?" she said as he taped down the edge of one of the last flyers. "Why are you helping me?" He sent her a sidelong glance and started to answer, but she raised one hand. "The real reason now. I can't pay my own family to help me with this anymore, they keep telling me it's time move on, and here you are, a complete stranger. Why are you here?"

He gazed at the flyer for a long moment, then looked back at her. "Because I think my friend would want me to be," he said.

He smoothed out a wrinkle in the flyer, his eyes lost in thought. "Where is she now?" Jackie asked, following his gaze. "Your friend. The one Rose reminds you of."

He let out a slow breath. "A long, long way from here."

The soft, wistful tone in his voice was one she knew all too well. "It's hard, isn't it," she said. "Everyone keeps saying it'll get easier but it never does."

Jackie saw his jaw tighten. "No. It never gets easier."

They finished putting up the few remaining flyers in silence; when the last one was up Jackie stepped back and stared. "That's the worst part," she said. "The not knowing. Always wondering where she is, if she's cold, if she's hungry, if she's scared. I keep watching the news expecting to see her face."

"You don't know she's in trouble."

Jackie nodded. "I know my daughter. I know something's happened."

"You said she called, right?"

She snorted. "She called and said she'd be late. 'Late' means up with Shireen all night in some club, not this." The night was getting colder and she crossed her arms against the chill. "I keep replaying that call over and over in my head, trying to find something I missed. Maybe she was trying to give me some sort of code and I couldn't pick up on it."

"Look, she's nineteen. She could have met someone. You said she just lost her job, maybe she just decided on the spur of the moment to travel, see the world."

"But she wouldn't do that! Not without calling, not going all these months with no word!"

"Lots of kids do."

Jackie shook her head. "Not my Rose."

Jack's expression softened. "Why don't you tell me about your Rose?"

That brought Jackie up short. "You really want to hear me talk about my daughter?"

His brows knitted up in confusion. "That's what I just said, right?"

"But didn't you say to had to go Cardiff tonight? So you could go back to doing that top-secret government work you said you couldn't talk about?"

"I don't work for the government, actually. And another hour or so won't make much of a difference."

She shook her head. "Who _are_ you, Jack Harkness?"

He smiled. "Someone who wants to put off that long drive back to Cardiff for as long as possible." His expression softened. "And someone who'd like to know more about the girl he's been staring at for the past two hours."

She gave him a long, appraising look; he was trying his charming look again, flashing his dimples as if that usually got him everything he wanted, but his smile was forced and his eyes were shadowed. Jackie had been living with loneliness for over eight months; after all that time it wasn't hard to spot. "All right," she nodded. "But I get to go on for as long as I want, and don't you even think about interrupting."

He smiled again, this time a real one. "Wouldn't dream of it."

They wound up in a booth at a little hole in the wall Egyptian café, and in between sips of tea she'd never heard of Jackie told Jack Harkness all about Rose Tyler. Not all good things, but real things, the memories that kept Jackie up at night while she listened for the sound of Rose's keys in the door: the rows they'd had over that horrible boy Rose had dated in high school, and how when she was twelve she used to mock Jackie for recording _Eastenders_ every day but still watched it with her every night because that was "their show." Or the time she found a kitten outside the Estate and hid it in the flat for almost two weeks until Jackie finally found it sleeping in the pocket of her robe and realized why she'd been sneezing so much. How Rose had cried every night for a week when Jackie had told her that there wasn't enough money for her to keep up gymnastics but had never once complained. How she would make tea and sit up with Jackie all night when yet another of Jackie's Prince Charmings would turn out to be just another toad in a bad suit.

Jackie just let the words come; it was such a relief just to be able to say Rose's name without the other person stiffening up and looking for the exit. Jackie knew what people said behind her back, the whispers of _Oh, poor thing, there she goes again_ when she mentioned that the police might have a new lead or that she'd gotten a response to a flyer. Her own mother -- Rose's gran! -- had picked up one of Rose's pictures the day prior and mentioned, "Dear, don't you think it's time you put these away?" Jackie's blood boiled just at the memory.

Jackie realized she was ranting at Jack, who true to his word hadn't interrupted once. "Sorry, " she said. "I think I went off track."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for." He waved over the waiter and made another complicated order; in fact, he'd done all of the ordering, since Jackie couldn't make heads or tails of the menu. "It sounds like you two are close."

"Ever since she was a baby it's been just the two of us. We take care of each other, that's how it's always been."

He took a sip of his tea and grimaced. "They didn't steep it long enough." It tasted fine to her, but when she raised an eyebrow he sighed. "This type of tea is called touareg. Well, a variety of it, anyway. It got fashionable in England right after the first World War, but I can't find anyone who makes it the right way anymore."

Jackie rolled her eyes. "You're too young to sound like my grandfather."

He smirked, then put the cup aside and rubbed his chin. "Can I make a comment?"

"I'll decide after I hear it."

He grinned, but by then she'd seen enough of his smiles to know that he was about to say something she wasn't going to like. "I just think you're off base in blaming the boyfriend. From what you've told me he just doesn't seem like the type to me."

"He knows something," Jackie said, gesturing with her spoon. "I can see it in his eyes; they go all shifty when he sees me."

"Maybe that's because you had him arrested?"

"Even before. He's hiding something. I've known that boy practically since he was born, and I can tell when he's hiding something. What kind of person could look me in the face every day, _knowing_ they have information that could tell me where to find Rose and not say anything?"

Jack's expression shifted like he'd been about to say something and thought better of it. He took an absent-minded sip of his tea, grimaced again at the taste and waved the waiter back over. "Okay, fine," he said, after giving the waiter careful instructions, "maybe he does know something, but you don't really think that means he hurt her, do you?"

Jackie hesitated. Prior to eight months ago she wouldn't have believed that Mickey had it in him to swat flies. "He was the last person she was seen with."

"But it doesn't necessarily follow that he did something to hurt her, does it? Wouldn't it be dumb of him to stick around if he did?"

"You haven't met him." She sighed. "He's guilty of _something_ Jack, I can feel it. A mother knows." She felt tears prick at her eyes, and Jack reached across the table to take her hand. "Sorry, sorry. All this time and I still go to pieces."

"Hey, it's my fault," he said. "I just have that effect on people."

She laughed, wiping her eyes, and he squeezed her hand. "You know, I'll never be able to tell my girlfriends about you. They'll say you're some psychopath, returning to the scene of the crime. Or a con artist trying to sweet talk me."

"Nah, I've given that up too," he said. The waiter came back with the next round of drinks, and Jack took a long, satisfied sip. "Now, where were we?"

An hour later the café was empty and the staff was busy sweeping around them in a polite attempt to get them to leave. Jack insisted on picking up the check and further insisted on driving her home. Jack parked in front of the Estate and leaned his head back against the seat. "You look exhausted," Jackie said, and Jack turned to her with another one of his grins.

"I had an early start this morning. Well, yesterday morning, actually. These business trips are a bitch."

"Well, thank you. I didn't realize how much I needed a friendly ear."

"Don't thank me, it was my pleasure."

"I'm sure. Handsome young man like you, I'm sure there are thousands of things you'd rather be doing."

"I can't think of one," he said. He shifted in his seat to look at her. "Look, think about what I said, all right? Don't torture yourself so much. Just give it a few more months, and I'm sure Rose will walk right through the door like nothing ever happened."

There was an intensity to his voice that made Jackie want to believe it. "How can you sound so sure?"

"I just...I just have a really good feeling about it."

"I hope you're right. I'm glad I met you, Captain Jack."

Jack took her right hand and kissed it like someone out of an old picture. "Again, the pleasure was all mine."

The brush of his lips on her skin sent shivers down her arm. All she could think of was yet another long night in her empty flat. "You're not really driving all the way back to Cardiff this time of night, are you?" she said, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "I can tell how tired you are, and the weather's supposed to turn again." Almost on cue fat raindrops splattered against the windshield, and Jack swore under his breath. "Don't you have any friends in London you can stay with?"

"No," he said, a bitter smile on his lips. "Not anymore. Like I said, a long, long way from here."

There was a dark loneliness in his eyes that Jackie recognized all too well. Here was someone else who knew what it was like to pass the night with only memories for company. He hadn't let go of her hand, and she moved her fingers under his jacket cuff to brush against his wrist. "Why don't you come in, then? Just until the rain stops."

She had a moment to feel foolish. He was younger, and handsome, and she could just hear her friends telling her to act her age. Then flashed her another of his brilliant grins and leaned forward, one hand cupping her cheek. He spoke in a soft whisper that she felt go down into her bones. "I was starting to worry you weren't going to ask."

-end-

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